


Lemon Zest

by Iris_black13



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 04:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iris_black13/pseuds/Iris_black13
Summary: this is based off a dream I had? I don't know how else to explain it.P.I./Con-man dynamic





	Lemon Zest

**Author's Note:**

> This is really gay. also please go easy on this piece since I wrote it as soon as I woke up TuT

“Your hair is shorter today.” I say as Porter walks into the kitchen. I know that’s not his real name. It’s too plain for him. (Damn handsome bastard...) 

“Oh. Yes, I trimmed it. I thought it was time for a change.” his face hardly changes as he reaches up to touch his hair. He reminds me of Spock from Star Trek. (I haven’t seen a lot of it, but they are really similar.) The same almost monotone voice, proper posture, and blank face. He’s tall too, not that that has to do with anything. I nervously play with the hem of my sleeve as he sits on the opposite side of the counter. 

“So what are you doing here? Already needed to pick up some oil for your joints?” I say, going back to whatever it was I had been making. I look at the recipe. Ah. Lemon bars. I had a craving for them when I woke up.

“I was hungry.” Porter says. It’s hard to believe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat. He probably just wants to keep an eye on me. I’m not surprised. He’s clever. He’s a detective and I’m a scam artist. It’s laughable to think I could ever have a chance with him.

“Really.” I say, trying to convey my disbelief.

“Truly.” He says. “Would you like help with your...” he glances at the book. “Lemon bars?” I hate this smug bastard. How did he even read that so easily?

“What makes you think I’d want your help?” I say, pretending that I’m not already imagining having flour fights and being lovey-dovey as we bake.

“Because switched the measurements for your sugar and your salt.” he says, pointing to the recipe. He’s right. How did he even notice that?

I click my tongue. “Fine, whatever.” I say as I start to fix the issue. I really hope my face isn’t as red as I think it is. He stands up and grabs an apron. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he almost looks excited.

“How’s your sister?” he says, adding the ingredients. I don’t know why he’s trying to make small talk.

“You tell me. You’re the one keeping an eye on us petty criminals.” I say as I look at the recipe. He looks like he’s about to protest, but I interrupt him. “Shit.”

“What is it?” he asks.

“The zester. It’s...” I look up at one of the higher cupboards. I sigh. “It’s fine, I can get it.” I start climbing onto the counter.

“Wait, let me do it.” He says. Tall asshole. I can get it myself. 

I’m sitting on the counter when he comes up behind me. I blush when I feel a hand steadying me at my waist. He leans over me to grab it, and I can suddenly smell cedar. How dare he smell so good.

“Got it.” He says as he looks down at me. I involuntarily feel my face flush. God, I hate him. He probably doesn’t even realize. I doubt he’s even aware what this close proximity would make any normal person think. I hate his stupid beauty spots, and his stupid stunningly blue eyes, and his dumb blank expression, and his perfect lips… Why is he lingering? I wish he wouldn’t. I’m getting my hopes up. I hate how hard it is to read his expression. 

And then he kisses me. It’s clumsy but sweet, and I absolutely melt into it. My eyes flutter closed and I reach to tangle my fingers in his hair. He tastes like mouthwash. His lips are soft, and his skin is cool. His other hand is on my waist now. I can feel his hair brush against my face. My heart if practically beating out of my chest. He makes me feel like my whole body is on fire, and I love it. We stay like this for a while, our lips moving together in harmony. 

When he pulls away, I’m left in a daze. My face is flushed and my lips are swollen, I’m sure of it, but my body feels light, so I’m not really thinking about it.

“Was that okay?” He asks.

“That,” I say, trying to fix my hair. “Was more than okay.” I blush. “But now you kinda have to tell me your name.”

“You know my name.” he says, looking as puzzled as he ever could.

“Don’t give me that. I mean your real name.” I say. 

“How did you know I was using an alias?” he smiles, and I swear to god, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 

“You’re shit at coming up with aliases.” I say. “You really thought I wouldn’t notice that you stole that name from that van?”   
He shrugs. “Not really.”

“So?” I lean over, curiously.

“Leonardo.” He says, and I swear his cheeks are a little pink.

“...I’m just gonna call you Leo.” I say, astounded by how boring his name is.

“That’s okay with me.” he smiles. I can’t help it. I kiss him again.


End file.
